


A Formal Introduction at the Ball

by idc_chan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Royalty, ice skating sort of, some mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idc_chan/pseuds/idc_chan
Summary: Phichit of T'hai attends a ball. He's excited to see his best friend Prince Katsuki and finally, finally meet this Consort.  And maybe there are other reasons to enjoy such an affair along the way.





	A Formal Introduction at the Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [col3bri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/col3bri/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for col3bri as a celebration for six months of running our rec blog. And as a thank you for all her hard work last night. I asked her what her id wanted in a fic and she asked for: a/b/o, sugar daddy, arranged marriage, royalty, and magic. I got 4/5 (couldn’t get the sugar daddy, sorry.) She also asked for “ice skating, mutual pining, some Phichit and no angst.” 4/4 there. And uhm a side helping of Phichit/Seung-gil. <3333 Hope you like it!  
> (I did the thing just for you. You know what I'm talking about. :p)

It's quite the affair. Phichit is more than happy to attend any ball held by Prince Katsuki, of course. He tugs on his jacket, straightens the suit the Prince Crafted for him. The entire suit is a vibrant red, with gold filigree decorating the top half. The gold twinkles and spins as he walks. He's wearing a gold sash, decorated with the Prince's sigil- a simple set of lines that the Prince had confided in him meant "courage". Whispers follow as he strides into the room, grinning. It's not everyone that is held in such high esteem by the Prince.

Phichit pauses, uses his own Craft to weave an image of himself and admire it. He transfers the image onto his paper- Crafted for such occasions. It splashes onto the page in a burst of red and gold, a few bystanders look on, some amused, some impressed, one gazes at him with what Phichit suspects might be a scoff.

"Lord Seung-gil," Phichit says, flourishing his matching red top-hat. "Would you like one of yourself? I can offer quite the discount for a gentleman of your reputation."

Lord Seung-gil's lips appear to quiver into a smile for the briefest of moments. "No," he answers, face returning to its normal status as a few onlookers whisper. Seung-gil is wearing a suit Crafted in a multitude of vibrant colors, resembling feathers.

"Unfortunate, your suit is magnificent. Your own design?"

"No."

Phichit grins. "Ever the conversationalist, Lord Seung-gil," he says, with a sweeping bow. He catches the faintest hint of cinnamon and vanilla and his grin morphs into a smirk. Lord Seung-gil is difficult to read, but that faint whiff of scent speaks volumes. "Ah, but perhaps we can finish later," Phichit says, turning towards the palace stairs. "I think the main show may be underway." Phichit chooses to interpret Lord Seung-gil's soft snort as a "yes".

They both, along with the crowd, turn in time to see the Prince and his Consort Presumptive make their entrance.

The Prince is wearing a gown. It's Crafted in black and silver, with a hint of red where his skirt flares at the hips. It trails behind him and slits up both sides, revealing silver mesh hose against the Prince's legs. Phichit follows the skirt down to the Prince's black and silver heels, the actual heel a splash of red. The Prince has slicked back his dark hair and his brown eyes sparkle. His arm is resting on his new Alpha's.

Phichit's gaze wanders to Victor, wearing a suit Crafted from pinks and purples with gold epaulettes. His pants appear painted on, like a second skin and Phichit imagines the view will be spectacular when Victor turns around. Victor's silver hair sparkles and Phichit wonders if Yuuri added any Craft or if it's naturally that shiny. Victor smiles, it doesn't seem to meet his eyes as Victor waves at the crowd.

"So nice to meet you," he says, his Common thickly accented. The crowd seems to breathe as one in response.

How delightful! How terribly gauche that Victor has spoken before the Prince! Phichit wants to rush up the stairs and hug this man. He's been so good for Yuuri. Victor's smile falters as the crowd begins to whisper.

Yuuri raises one hand, nails painted an elegant red that matches the details of his dress and the heels of his shoes. The crowd hushes instantly. Soft tendrils of power are just visible from the tips of the Prince's fingers. The crowd gasps, (and if Phichit is entirely honest, he joins that collective gasp) as the stair case shifts. A stir of cold air rushes through the ballroom and a sound like whistling wind surrounds them as Prince Katsuki turns the staircase into ice.

Phichit almost misses the minor Craft that adds blades to their shoes in the face of such a major Work. Prince Katsuki turns to Victor and extends his hand. He says something softly, and Phichit is so asking him later what he says that lights up Victor's face like that. Victor grasps Yuuri's hand and they glide down the ice together, on shoes made of blades. Phichit lets the tears stream down his face as he applauds with the rest of the crowd. He thinks he might even see Seung-gil's lips turned upwards for more than ten seconds.

The Prince and his Alpha glide to the bottom, wrapped up in each other. Phichit almost misses when Yuuri turns the staircase back to normal with the barest flick of his wrist. "Dime a dozen, Magus, my foot," he mutters under his breath, threading the crowd to reach his friend.

"Did you capture it for one of your Similarities? Did you?" Phichit looks up. A younger man, wearing mostly cloth, but embellished with some yellow sparkling Craft for his vest and red bowtie gazes up at him. There's a red streak of red Craft highlighting the kid's hair.

"Ah, Lord Kenjiro," Phichit says, offering a shallow bow and hat tip. "I was too caught up in the spectacle, I'm afraid."

Lord Kenjiro deflates, a slight pout lingers on his lips. Phichit smells apples, slightly soured. The scent brightens, a hint of citrus wafting through the air and Phichit whirls around at a familiar, soft, voice.

"Spectacle?"

Phichit turns, throws protocol to the wind, if Victor can, he can too. He pulls Yuuri into a hug. The happy, familiar scent of lilac and rose surrounds him. He scents something else too, just the barest hint of almonds. Later, he reminds himself, he's being rude enough already.

He pulls back, Yuuri smiles at him, shakes his head. He feels Victor's stare. "Yuuri," Phichit drawls.

Mari, one of Yuuri's unnecessary bodyguards bites out "Prince Katsuki" out of habit. Her uniform is plain cloth, all black, leather boots. Silver knives gleam at her belt. "Whatever, Princess Mari," Phichit spits back.

"Prince Katsuki," Phichit says, "I'm dying for our introduction..."

Yuuri's face turns red. Victor steps beside him, their arms link. Phichit meets the other Alpha's gaze. His skin feels tight as they meet, is that jealousy in Victor's eyes?

Yuuri sighs. "Phichit, this is Victor Nikiforov of Rus. My betrothed and Consort Presumptive. Victor, this is Phichit Chulanont of T'hai. My childhood friend." Both Alphas hear the emphasis on the word "friend". Victor lowers his gaze first, Phichit is filled with relief for a moment before irritation sets in.

"Idiot," Phichit address Victor. Victor looks up. "Be stronger for him."

Laughter bubbles out of Victor, deep and throaty. "Yuuri, even your friends surprise me." He pulls Yuuri closer to him. "I hope it never ends." Phichit hears the wistful tone in Victor's voice and files it away for later.

"Now that we've been formally introduced, may I?" he nods towards the orchestra which has begun to play a lively tune. A Magus weaves colors through the air in time to the music. Phichit doesn't recognize her, thinks he would have remembered her red hair. Victor inclines his head.

"Yuuri," Phichit says. ("Prince Katsuki," Mari growls.) "Dance with me?"

Yuuri smiles and shakes his head. "I'll always have a dance for you," he says.

The slide onto the floor, arm in arm. "Your letters didn't do him justice," Phichit says as they step into the dance. It requires a little concentration to follow the steps and gives Yuuri time to blush and glance back at Victor, who Phichit sees is staring at them wistfully.

"He adores you," Phichit adds as they twirl to a beat. The song slows, and they pull together.

"He's doing his duty as a royal Alpha," Yuuri whispers. Phichit stops dancing. He meets Yuuri's gaze. The Prince flinches.

"Tell me," Phichit says, "you truly believe that, and I'll find the loophole that prevents your impending marriage." He nods his head in Victor's direction, Yuuri's gaze follows his. There's a look of such longing on Victor's face before he notices the Prince and steels his gaze.

"Oh..." Yuuri says.

Phichit rolls his eyes. "Really. Why'd I have to spend a year in T'hai when you needed me most? Go on- go dance with your betrothed. I'll make you a Similarity, so I don't need to smack either of you."

"Mari will use her knives," Yuuri whispers.

Phichit smirks. "I'd like to see her try."

Yuuri all but runs back to Victor and grasps his hand. Phichit watches as they dance and catches a moment with his Craft where the Prince and his Alpha are so wrapped up in each other the rest of the world might not exist. Both of their faces glow as he transfers the image to the paper.

"I might dance with the man who captured that image," a man says behind him.

"Why Lord Seung-gil, are you asking me to dance?" Phichit says, storing the paper in his Craft enhanced pocket. He'll give it to Victor later, just in case the Alpha has any lingering doubts about Yuuri's feelings.

Lord Seung-gil extends his hand.


End file.
